He hated those eyes, as they brought back bad memories.
He hated the veins around those eyes. They reminded him of the Sixth Floor's Guardian. Of the child-like Monster who had lost its smile, whose face twisted and contorted with anger.
She had both.
Yet, she looked exceedingly beautiful.
With the Moonlight gone, there was only Darkness.
Her hair, blown both backwards and upwards at once by the wind, seemed to completely disappear.
The same was true of her dress.
Both her dress and her hair blended perfectly with the Darkness surrounding her.
With her eyes, dress, and hair becoming one with that Darkness, all that remained was her pale skin.
She was the Moon, plunged in Darkness.
"Sweet...!" The General of Wrath muttered, in awe.
Her gaze moved.
When had it moved exactly? Mark couldn't tell.
She was looking beyond the General, straight at him.
